Chapter Four: Terms and Conditions


A/N: Demelza is in a bit of trouble ;) As always, thank you to those who have reviewed, favourited and followed!


The Street of Spiders was not a place where any well-respected Westerosi noblewoman would venture in their right mind, but fortunately, Demelza was no Westerosi noblewoman. Tugging the thin fabric of the brown hood tighter about her dark hair, she stepped into the shop she had heard so much about, wrinkling her nose at the heavy stench of copper and overripe fruit.

The servant girls had talked about the Street of Spiders as a place where women went to undergo medical examinations, far from the prying eyes of the Maesters. The tongues in the Street of Spiders were less prone to prattling, lest they be removed. It was discretion that Demelza was counting upon as she took a deep breath and walked across the woman at the counter with greasy grey hair.

It had been a few scarce months since she and Criston had become lovers. They met in the shadows after dark, slipping into her room or his to conduct their illicit business. It was enthralling to Demelza. Though a game at first, her feelings for Criston Cole burned as fiercely as any forge. She feared them, feared what those feelings might lead to.

In the excitement of taking a lover, of sneaking about undetected, it was only days before that Demelza realised she had gone three months without her monthly courses.

"Payment first." The old woman rasped, and Demelza silently slid out a small purse and counted out seven silver stags. The woman's mouth split into a rot-toothed grin, and she led Demelza through some gauzy curtains to the back of the shop. Her heart hammering in her chest, Demelza followed.

She had, of course, not told Valko or any of her guards where she was going. Not only would there have been protests, but questions. Demelza did not have answers yet, which was precisely why she had come to this place on the Street of Spiders. She sat down, picking at the sleeve of her dress as the woman examined her critically.

"When did you last bleed?"

"Three months ago."

"I see." The woman's fingers poked and prodded at Demelza's form, making her wince, though she did her best to remain still. With a sniff, the woman drew back and picked up a jar, waving it under Demelza's nose. The foul stench of rotten egg permeated her nostrils, and nausea heaved in her stomach. Bile rushed up her throat and she curled forward, vomiting on the floor.

The woman's cackle was not a comforting sound. "Have you been taken ill in the mornings, girl? Cravings for any particular food?"

"I…yes." Demelza didn't think the woman cared what she had a craving for.

"Well, whoever your lover is, he's almost certainly got a babe upon you." The woman inspected her with a critical eye. There was no disdain, as Demelza might find from someone of her own class, merely curiosity. "But it's alright. We can fix that."

"Do you mean moon tea?" Alarm coursed through Demelza. She hadn't realised that was what her silver stags had paid for.

"Of course that's what I mean, girl. Fortunately, I actually know how to brew it. If you did so out of carelessness, it could have dire consequences."

"No." Demelza blurted out the word before she even processed what she was saying, and the woman paused at her adamant interjection. She stopped to consider her own thoughts. Although there would be no shame in ridding herself of the babe, was it what she wanted? Since she had bled, Demelza had been prepared for her role as a wife and mother, to let her lord husband bed her as he pleased and produce him children.

What if she were to do it on her own terms? In Dorne, bastards were just as welcome as legitimate children. The act of sex was not shameful in her home country, but a natural part of life. Valko himself was a bastard, and was held in high esteem at Starfall regardless.

Demelza was not foolish enough to think Criston would wed her. He was a member of the Kingsguard, and such things were forbidden. Yet…perhaps this could be another secret between them, a child born of their passion and their love.

Many children were conceived through duty, but Demelza thought perhaps it would be nice to have her own baby conceived through different circumstances. It was a representation of the romance she shared with Criston, a little life they had created between them. The thought made her bite back a smile as she rested a hand on her stomach, though she felt no physical change.

"I warn you now, girl." The woman shook her head. "This might seem like something you want now, but the world does not treat young women who have children out of wedlock with kindness."

"I'm Dornish," Demelza snapped, before pausing to realise that she may have given away her identity. There were not many Dornish noblewomen at court, and though she hoped the woman would say nothing, she could not be assured of her silence.

"Then perhaps you should return there," the woman responded with just as much acidity, "For there is no future for an unwed girl of your age with a babe. You may think you love the father now, but he will cast you aside rather than acknowledge his sins."

"You know nothing of the father." Demelza pushed herself up off the seat, staring daggers at the old woman. "I will keep the child, but if you speak word of this, I shall know about it."

"Do you think I got where I am by gossiping?" The woman's voice was mocking. "Get on with you, girl. But know this: the later you seek moon tea, the more painful the experience will be."

"I won't be seeking it at all," Demelza hissed, yanking her hood over her head and marching out of the shop. A foul mood settled over her like an impending storm, anger at the judgement that she was already experiencing for her choice.

She wouldn't let it impact her. She was a Dayne. She would hold her head high. Fuck anyone who tried to push her toward a certain path because it would suit them better.

"Whoa there!"

Demelza had been so caught up in her thoughts that she almost collided with a member of the City Watch. Drawing back, she stared up at a broad-shouldered man with curly brown hair and a familiar face. Recognition dawned on her as she remembered that this was Breakbones, or rather Ser Harwin Strong. He was probably of an age with Criston, the eldest son of Lyonel Strong of the small council.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Do I know you?" His brow pinched and he examined her critically, making her pull her hood further over her face. At a glance, he may not recognise her, but she did not have features common to King's Landing. Her stomach churned at the thought that Harwin could already have recognised her.

"No. I don't think so."

"Hm." He did not seem convinced, but stepped back to allow her to pass. She suspected that he watched her pass, wondering who the familiar girl in the Street of Spiders was. Clutching her cloak more tightly around herself, Demelza hurried back to the Red Keep, wishing to avoid any other blunders that could expose her.


"Where in the seven hells have you been?"

Valko Sand was in an absolute state when Demelza returned, tugging off her plain hood and heaving a sigh at his agitated gait. His dark eyes flashed with anger and impatience, which Demelza knew would only worsen once she had to confess her news to him. It would be unfair to keep such a matter from the captain of her guard, especially when she was going to keep the babe.

"I went into the city."

"Alone and unaccompanied." Valko folded his arms over his chest, jaw clenching. "Yes, I can see that. What were you thinking, Demelza? It is not a safe place for a girl of your station. If you had been assailed in the street…"

"Yet I wasn't." Demelza spun to face him, steeling herself and curling her trembling hands in the folds of her skirt. "There is something that I need to discuss with you."

Alarm washed over Valko's face. "Something did happen?"

"Not in the city, no." Demelza swallowed hard. Sex in itself was not a sin for the Dornish, and neither was the unborn child she carried. It was not the thought of either of those that frightened her, but the knowledge that she had been lying to Valko for months. "I went to see a woman in the Street of Spiders because…because I am with child."

"You are what?" Valko barked. He searched her face for any sign that this was a prank, and finding none, he took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through his nostrils. Demelza stared at the floor, hating that she had been so dishonest with a man who had practically been a father figure to her.

"I only just found out."

"So you went to the Street of Spiders to rid yourself of the issue?" Valko asked incredulously, his mouth gaping open when Demelza shook her head fervently. "You didn't take moon tea? Demelza, you had best start giving me some answers here."

"I plan to keep the baby." Demelza's voice was a lot more calm than she had anticipated, and she raised her head to look Valko in the eye. "I know the consequences, Valko. You don't have to explain them to me. But back in Dorne, bastards are celebrated, not condemned."

"We are not in Dorne, we are in Westeros," Valko reminded her, "It's more than just that. You would jeopardise your position. You have already jeopardised my position as captain of your guard."

Demelza frowned. She didn't realise how her choices impacted upon Valko. It wasn't as though she expected him to help her with the babe, or even the pregnancy itself. At her blank expression, Valko tilted his head back and unleashed yet another of the weary sighs she knew so well.

"You didn't think about that at all, did you? How do you think it looks, that as the captain of your guard, I was completely unaware of this situation? I could be dismissed, Demelza. I could be recalled back to Dorne because of this."

She scowled. "So this is about you now?"

"It's about all of us." Valko's voice was firm, and the sharpness of it was cutting, and the fact that she had not considered anyone beside herself in truth made Demelza wilt in shame. "I do not begrudge your actions, though I do not agree with them. The choice you make now is yours, but I cannot stand by without knowing the truth. Who is the father? Did you consent to this?"

"Of course I consented." The words came out in a rush, the thought of anything otherwise making Demelza's stomach coil. "I cannot tell you who the father is."

Valko's expression grew annoyed, though Demelza remained stubbornly certain she would not betray Criston's trust. She had not even told him about the child, and it was forbidden for him. The consequences would be dire, and she would not expose him to them. When Valko opened his mouth, Demelza shook her head fervently.

"You cannot convince me, Valko. I will not tell you, or anyone else."

"By the gods, you are a vexing, wilful girl." Valko seethed, raking a hand through his dark hair. She had rarely seen such fury in him, a typically stoic man, though she understood now that his own position was at risk because of her keeping him in the dark.

"Do you really think that my family would dismiss you, Valko?"

"I don't know." Valko glowered at her. "You hardly thought of that before now. But please, Lady Demelza, tell me exactly how you plan for this to go."

"I will have the baby and raise them. Is that not how it usually goes?"

"The court will never accept that." Valko pinched his brow. "You truly didn't think this through, did you? In Dorne, this may be acceptable, but here in King's Landing…it is far different, and I thought that you knew that, child."

Demelza bristled. "I am not a child."

"You are fifteen years old." Valko held something back, perhaps an angry tirade he wished he could unleash. Instead he stepped forward and gripped her shoulders, tucking up her chin to look her in the eye. "Whatever you decide, I will back you. But you must be certain in your choice, Demelza."

A wave of emotion enveloped Demelza, tears of gratitude springing to her eyes as she threw her arms around Valko. She had been an ungrateful charge, lying to and deceiving him. He could lose his position for her secrecy, for failing to know where his charge was and failing to be around to protect her. Instead he treated her with rightful irritation, but also compassion and understanding.

Valko tensed at first, uncertain how to react to the familiar contact, before he rubbed her back and held her close. It was the first time that Demelza had felt at home in a long term, the first time she could remember what it was like to have a parental figure watching out for her. She smiled against his tunic, tears leaking down her cheeks. Whatever else, she would make sure that she had Valko.


Demelza loathed lying to Valko once again, but she could not have him accompanying her to see Criston and realising the father of her child. She claimed to be taking tea with Alicent, and though Valko's expression was doubtful, he allowed her to join Criston's company as they wandered the corridor toward Alicent's chambers. The wedding was mere days away, and Demelza knew that her best friend was nervous.

"The captain of your guard seems agitated."

"He is not too thrilled with me." Demelza kept a respectful distance from Criston, and to anyone observing them in the daylight, it could truly have been a Kingsguard accompanying a respectable lady to the future Queen's chambers, instead of two lovers about to engage in a serious conversation.

"Why is that?" The casualty of Criston's tone was betrayed by the troubled gleam in his dark eyes.

"Don't worry, he knows nothing of us." Demelza was silent a moment, before deciding it was best to sprinkle salt over the wound so it would heal faster. "He does know of my condition, however."

"Your…your condition?" Criston repeated, brow furrowing.

"I am with child."

There was a tense silence between the pair and Criston paused in his footsteps. Demelza's gaze ran over him, and she had come to know him well enough over the past few months to realise that this was not a good sign. Criston struggled to school his expression, probably recalling the two of them were in public.

"I would never tell anyone you were the father," Demelza promised desperately, "I don't expect you to acknowledge the baby, or do anything to…"

"You need to get rid of it." Panic coloured Criston's tone and when he looked up at Demelza, there was something different in his face, something that made her shoulders tense. "You have to take moon tea, Demelza. You cannot have this baby."

"I…" Demelza had not expected him to take kindly to the news, but his blunt insistence that she abort the child was not what she had anticipated. "I do not believe you have a say over what I do here, Ser Criston."

"Raising a bastard in a place like this?" Criston cast around as if to prove his point. "The court would tear you apart. You would be a whore to them. An unwed mother of noble blood is not done here. You would never be able to overcome that taint."

Demelza lifted her chin, her blood boiling at how quick he was to dismiss her and the child. How quick he was to claim that she would be demeaned.

"I will decide what I can overcome."

"Have it your way, Demelza." There was a coldness to his voice, a tightness to his jaw. "But know that should anyone suspect, I will deny the child is mine until my dying breath. I will not acknowledge a child born of our mistakes."

His callous disregard for her, after months of their shared passion, was as swift and harsh as a blow to the face. Demelza swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking away the tears that threatened her vision. How could so easily cast her aside? They had made their decisions knowing he was a member of the Kingsguard, and now he waved that Kingsguard status like a flag suing for peace to shirk any responsibility toward her or the child.

Hoisting a smile sharp as glass across her features, Demelza inclined her head to him. Criston could have his regrets if he wished, but she suspected they only came because of the unintended consequences. He had cared for her, and no amount of protest on his part could take that back.


Fortunately, the population of King's Landing was far too concerned with the glamour of Viserys and Alicent's wedding for anyone to question if anything seemed off about Demelza. The day of the event dawned, and she donned herself in violet silks, Septa Gwenefer braiding her hair intricately in a way that made Demelza smile at her reflection. When she turned to view her side profile, there was still no proof that she was carrying a child.

It had been some time since there was such celebration and indulgence within the Red Keep, and Demelza welcomed the distraction. Criston had not spoken to her since she had told him about the baby, and she had coolly avoided him at every opportunity. Today, she would focus her attention on supporting Alicent, whose gown and hair looked resplendent as she sat beside Viserys at the banquet table.

When Demelza looked at Alicent, she saw the future that everyone wanted for her: a girl married to a powerful and influential older man. But between her polite smiles, Alicent was terrified. Demelza doubted their wedding night would have the same passion that she had shared with Criston. If it meant tainting her name to avoid such a fate, then she would gladly take that, and the bastard baby she carried.

"Will you not speak to them?" Demelza leaned across to Rhaenyra, who was looking as lovely as ever in red, black and gold. "Congratulate them on their union?"

Rhaenyra smiled humourlessly as she raised her goblet to her lips. "I think not."

Demelza leaned back in her seat. The feast was delicious, but instead of making her mouth water, the smell of rosemary pork made her stomach turn. Forcing back her queasiness, she loaded some bread onto her empty plate, accompanied by a raised eyebrow from Rhaenyra.

"You love pork. Is that all you're eating?"

"I find I don't have much of an appetite," Demelza murmured, though she did not think this was the time or the place to confess why.

"A toast!" Otto Hightower eased himself to his feet, lifting his goblet. "To the King and his new Queen. May their union be happy, and blessed with many children."

Demelza saw the hatred flash across Rhaenyra's face in that moment, the way her eyes hardened and her jaw clenched as she stared daggers at Otto. As everyone raised their goblets to the royal couple, Demelza felt bile burning up her throat and murmured an excuse as she pushed herself away from the table, hurrying out of the hall. As the lights and music dimmed, she retched and threw up in a nearby pot plant.

"Demelza?" Rhaenyra hurried after her, a flurry of crimson skirts, kneeling beside her and rubbing her back sympathetically. Demelza's knees trembled and she cursed herself for making a spectacle of herself on Alicent's wedding day. She hoped that the Princess was the only one to have noticed her abrupt departure.

"There's something I need to tell you." Demelza's voice was a rasp as Rhaenyra helped her to her feet. "I'm with child."

"What?" Rhaenyra hissed, quieting herself at Demelza's stern look. "Are you serious? Demelza! Who is the father?"

She should have lied, as she did to Valko, as she did to everyone else. But Rhaenyra was her best friend, a friend she had kissed. If she could trust anyone, it would certainly be Rhaenyra. Demelza rested a hand on her stomach, still flat beneath her fingers, wiping her mouth across the back of her other hand. What if she was wrong after all? What if this was a terrible idea, and she had made a mistake?

"Criston Cole."

"Are you two alright?" Alicent appeared in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights of the banquet. She paused when she observed the pair of them. Demelza, a hand on her stomach. Rhaenyra, a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders. Her mouth parted, hurt and shock flashing through her eyes, but the moment was over just as quickly as it had happened.

"We should return to the feast." Demelza tugged away from Rhaenyra, heart hammering in her chest as she wondered just how much Alicent had seen and heard. "Surely they'll be dancing soon."

Linking her arm through Rhaenyra's, Demelza turned her back on the shadows and headed into the bright lights of the hall. If Alicent had anything to say, she was silent as she trailed beside them, moving over to graciously accept Viserys's proffered hand to take their place as the first dancers of the evening.

"Are you quite well, Lady Demelza?" Larys Strong, Harwin's brother and the younger son of Lyonel, inspected her with a cool and unnerving gaze. A steady smile spread across his lips as he inspected her. "You are pale, and you left the hall in a rush."

"Just a dizzy spell," Demelza lied dismissively, eyes fixated on Alicent. How gracefully she rose to the role of Queen, how easy she made it all look! It was only because Demelza knew her best friend better than she was able to see the masquerade for what it was. This was a play, and Alicent was playing her part perfectly. The idea sent thrills of horror racing up Demelza's spine, and she thought fondly of her secret and how it would protect her from such a thing.

She was not stupid enough to believe having a bastard baby would be easy, but perhaps it would give her the freedom she so craved. What nobleman, aside from one who wanted Demelza for precisely who she was, would wed the mother of a bastard? Her match would likely be a Dornish one, for the men of her home country did not hold the same prejudices as those in Westeros.

"Lady Demelza." Otto appeared beside her, making her press a hand to her racing heart at the suddenness of his appearance. The Hand of the King did not seek out her company, leaving her with suspicion pinching at her insides.

"Ser Otto. You startled."

"May we speak in private?" Otto offered his arm, and Demelza saw no other choice than to smile politely and take it. Perhaps he had seen her abrupt flight from the banquet and wanted answers. She ignored the way her knees trembled, a cool sheen of sweat breaking over her as she accompanied Otto from the hall.

Once they stepped out into the gardens, there was a self-satisfied smile across the Hand's face, a mean little gleam in his eyes that Demelza did not like in the slightest. She gathered all the shreds of her composure together. Otto had always disliked her, and she would give him no reason for quarrel. The night air was a refreshing balm across Demelza's skin, though she felt a slight chill to it.

"Tomorrow morning, you and your Dornish retinue will pack up and leave for Starfall indefinitely."

"Excuse me?" The words had been delivered in such a casual tone, making Demelza prickle with rage. Did Otto truly believe she would heed his instruction without question? She and her company had been in King's Landing for seven years, a bridge between Dorne and Westeros. Now Otto was asking them to leave?

"I know all about your condition, girl." Irritation crept into Otto's voice, his cold gaze sweeping disdainfully over her. "You have tarnished yourself, and I will not have your taint spreading to Queen Alicent by association."

"What I do with my body is none of your business." Demelza spat. Hand of the King or not, it was not up to Otto to dictate her choices.

"Perhaps not, but should the father of your child become public knowledge, it would be quite the scandal. Maybe not for you, but for him."

Demelza scoffed derisively. "You have no idea who the father is."

"So I would be mistaken in believing that it's Ser Criston Cole?" Otto arched an eyebrow, her shocked silence only serving to accept his smug demeanour. Rhaenyra was the only one who had known the father, perhaps Alicent if she had overheard. Demelza was faced with the unpleasant revelation that one of her best friends had betrayed her.

"This has nothing to do with him. He has made it clear that he will not acknowledge the baby, nor do I expect him to."

"Which is why you will return to Dorne." Otto's satisfied tone made it clear he knew he was backing her into a corner. "Perhaps, in the future, you may receive a summons to return to court. But you will deliver your bastard quietly at home in Starfall, not in King's Landing, as you seem so eager to make yourself the centre of a scandal."

Demelza was quiet, staring up at him with pure loathing. Criston had been unkind in his rejection of the babe, but he did not deserve to lose his position over it. She contemplated Otto's words, and nodded curtly.

"If I leave, do you guarantee that you will say nothing of the child's paternity?"

"I guarantee nothing, Lady Demelza." Otto clasped his hands. "But if there is no child in sight of the court, there is nothing for anyone to question."

Demelza clenched her jaw. There was nothing she could say that would change Otto's mind, and to be disagreeable would be to put not only Criston at risk, but also members of her own household. Though she hated to bend so easily to another's will in regards to making her own decisions, she was out of options.

After almost eight years, it was time for Demelza to return home.